My Saviour
by AngelisIgniRelucent
Summary: I looked up, and what I saw stole my breath away: my brother, flushed and breathless, with his hair dishevelled and his sapphire eyes pleading. He was beautiful, and he was mine, all mine. With that thought I took him into my mouth.  WARNING: INCEST SLASH


**Hey!**

**Basics, this is my first attempt at any kind of smut, so please review me with suggestions or corrections or constructive criticisms etc…it would make me happy =D**

**A huge shout out to all my girls at NLCS…I LOVE YOU…don't judge ;)**

**DISCLAIMER: I don't own any characters etc…though I would love to!**

I hated crying. Crying made me feel weak – helpless – but crying was all I could do now. My Elena…wasn't mine. It wasn't even because she couldn't cope with super natural, no, it was _me_. She's said the spark wasn't there anymore, and to be honest, I'd agreed, but I thought we'd get through it. I'd thought it was just a rough patch…no one ever said love would be easy. But she'd gone…back to Matt. I felt my forehead wrinkle as I considered this. Surely, if she'd had enough of me, she would've gone to Damon?

Ahh, Damon. I felt a twinge of guilt as I thought his name. How could I have been so cold, so unsympathetic? He'd loved Elena all along. He'd been feeling like _this_ all along. Because she didn't love him back – and now she didn't love _me_ back. We were broken – both of us. She broke us, like Katherine before her. Being broken twice is too much for any one person, no matter how long they may live. It makes you see the world in a different light.

Damon's bitterness, his cynicism, I understood it now. I understood how he could smirk at the world with so much superiority, because the world _didn't _understand. The world couldn't even begin to comprehend his pain – our pain. 160 years of pain. 160 years of watching the world go by; trying to come to terms with the scars Katherine left on both of our hearts. Those wounds never healed – they festered – and now they had been torn open anew. 160years of hating yourself for the lives you take; hating the only person you have for not having a conscience, for not _feeling_. Having _him_ hate _you_ for making him the monster he has become and the overwhelming guilt that came with the realisation that you'd acted out of selfishness. That his life was _ruined_ because of _your selfishness_.

I could feel the harsh sobs clawing their way from my throat, but I didn't care enough to try and stop them. I didn't care that Damon could hear them. There was no privacy around him anyway – not even your thoughts were your own. I was so lost in them – my thoughts, my sadness, my _guilt_ – that the arm around me startled me. I looked up so see a flash of the bluest eyes before I was crushed to his chest, his arms constricting around me.

"Brother," he murmured softly, almost tenderly, into my hair, "I'm so sorry." I didn't know what he was apologising for; I didn't know why I was crying any more…I didn't even know my own name. All I knew was that he was holding me, and that was all I needed to know. It felt like before – before all this mess – when we were human. Before Katherine came between us. When we were brothers in the true sense of the word. It felt…nice. It almost felt like he cared.

His whispered reassurances calmed my sobs and I lifted my face from where it was buried in his chest to meet his gaze. His azure eyes, somehow both scorching _and _soft, were hypnotising, and I was lost in their depths. I watched as his face drew closer, closer, and his soft lips brushed my cheek. He pulled back, cautious of my reaction, but I was incapable of movement. He must have seen something encouraging in my eyes though, because he repeated the gesture, again and again.

Kissing away my tears.

He kept his eyes locked on mine, both reassuring and wary, with a hint of something else that I couldn't place… He looked just as lost in my eyes as I was in his. On an impulse, I turned my head slightly as his face approached mine, catching his lips with my own. It was sweet bliss, having his lips on mine, but after a second, they were gone. He pulled back in surprise and I felt the blood rush to my face and I tried to look down in my embarrassment, but his eyes would not release my own. His shock was suddenly replaced with amusement and he let out a low, throaty chuckle which made the muscles in the pit of my stomach coil and my breathing speed up.

"Stefan," he said, drawing out my name. It sounded like a caress on his tongue. I could only whimper in response, and then his lips were crashing down on mine, stealing my breath. I didn't need the air when I had Damon. He tasted so much sweeter than air; my body craved him _more_ than air. His tongue invaded my mouth and I didn't resist. My body was submissive in response to his fierce dominance. My body didn't feel like it belonged to me any more – it was his. _I_ was his. Mind, body and soul.

"Mine," he growled reacting to my thought. I whimpered as he broke the kiss, but his hands moved up to pull off my shirt. I moaned in approval and he licked his lips as he appraised my bare chest before pushing me back on the bed and trailing hot kisses down my abdomen. His mouth was like magic: kissing, licking, biting – but not hard enough to break the skin. My hands automatically wove themselves into his dark, silky hair, tugging at it as I groaned. His tongue swirled around my nipple, and the strangled cry I emitted made Damon laugh, sending vibrations through my entire frame. I writhed and squirmed under his touch, my movements causing our pelvises to rub together – the delicious friction eliciting moans from both of us. His momentary distraction allowed me to swiftly rip his shirt off – his perfection was almost painful. He flipped us over so I was on top and smirked at my expression.

"I take it you like what you see?" my only response was to swoop down and sink my fangs into his neck. I smiled vindictively around his throat as he gasped in pain, then moaned in pleasure. His hot, sweet blood filled my senses. It tasted like him: dark and dangerous, with a seductive hint of the last human he had drunk. His hands clutched frantically at my hair as I sucked the nectar from his wound, and his frequent cries encouraged me. He pouted as I pulled away, lapping at the last few drops of blood. I pulled him into a rough kiss and our tongues danced, battling for control, and this time, I won. I was strong from Damon's blood, and he was weak from the lack of it. I could feel his arousal harden even more as he tasted his own blood in my mouth.

I broke away, my mouth hunting down his body, impatiently tearing off his jeans and boxers and stroking his length teasingly.

"Stefaaaaaaan," he groaned in frustration. I looked up, and what I saw stole my breath away: my brother, flushed and breathless, with his hair dishevelled and his sapphire eyes pleading. The wound on his throat was almost completely healed and his bare chest was rising and falling fast and irregularly, in time with his panting. He was so beautiful. And he was mine. All mine.

And with that thought, I took him into my mouth. I rocked back and forth, slowly at first, grazing him with my teeth, gradually speeding up. His hips thrust forward to meet me and I pumped harder and faster until I was going at a speed unknown to man.

"Ste…fan…I'm…gon…na…" I heard Damon stutter out between shouts. I took him further into my mouth, deeper with each thrust, until I could feel his tip slamming against the back of my throat. It only took a few more to push him over the edge. As I felt his hot cum squirt down my throat, I heard the most beautiful sound in the world – Damon calling _my_ name. Damon begging _me_ for more. Damon was _mine_.

He dragged me up, regaining some of his strength now, and crushed my lips with his own.

"You…taste…so…good," I panted out between kisses.

"I know," he smirked, "my turn." And then he plunged his fangs into my throat. First there was pain. Then there was an all-consuming pleasure so acute it almost _was_ pain. My frantic gasping slowed to sighs as Damon took back the strength I had stolen from him. He licked the gash tenderly, and placed bloody kisses down my chest. He removed my sweatpants and boxers oh so slowly and I struggled weakly, desperate for some friction. He raised his eyebrows at me mockingly.

"Now, now, Stefan, all in good time. It's _my_ turn to have some fun."

His fingers traced he planes of my face gently, stroking my cheeks, my eyelids, the shape of my lips. Slowly, he forced them apart, slipping his fingers inside. He leaned down, his mouth by my ear.

"Suck," he commanded. I complied with as much enthusiasm as I could muster with my pitifully low strength, and I saw his eyes darken with unmistakeable lust. Suddenly I was lying on my front and I could feel his hand trailing down my back, massaging my muscles into submission. I gasped when he reached my ass, his fingers kneading it roughly, and I cried out in pain as he slipped one digit in. He moved it gently, until I was used to it, then he started pumping.

"More," I choked out around moans of pleasure. He chuckled darkly and added another finger. I grunted as he hit my prostate and I could feel an orgasm building. Just a few more… I whined as he withdrew his fingers, my hands reaching blindly behind me to find his again. Suddenly his hands were on my wrists, pinning them to the bed on either side of me. I could feel his tip tickling my entrance and my body arched into an unnatural position, trying to take him into me. He laughed again, but I was too needy to be embarrassed about my body's incessant craving for him.

"Get. In. Me. Now." I gasped, trying to sound as authoritative as he did. I could hear the smirk in his voice as he replied.

"Very well, brother." He sheathed himself inside me fully, and I couldn't stop myself from shouting his name, again and again, in time with his thrusts. A combination of his dick slamming into me and the friction of the bed sheets against my own drove me wild. My hips bucked up to meet his and my hands clenched and unclenched around the pillows above my head.

"So tight," Damon moaned into my ear, and my breathing hitched. I struggled to word my desire.

"Bite…me," I stuttered.

"With pleasure," he whispered seductively, his fangs penetrating my flesh, claiming me as his own. There was so much pleasure, so much pain. I was surrounded by it, lost in it, drowning in it.

Drowning in Damon.

All that I could feel, see, hear, taste, smell – everything was Damon. He was dominating, all-consuming, and I was powerless in the face of his beauty. Orgasm after orgasm washed over me, through me, cleansing me of any thought that wasn't _Damon_. He broke me, he completed me, he hurt me, he healed me, he helped me…

"I love you, Stefan," he grunted as I felt his hot seed spill into me. His thrusts slowed until he was lying still on top of me. He flipped us onto our sides and held me close. I snuggled into his chest and sighed in contentment. He _loved _me.

"I love you too, Damon," I whispered, blushing at how those words sounded in that order. And then I drifted off to sleep in Damon's strong embrace.

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